


Not Anymore

by TheTrickyOwl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrickyOwl/pseuds/TheTrickyOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you just gotta let people go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Anymore

“What’s her name?”

So quiet was the voice, so weak, that Sam barely heard it over the tapping of his fingers across his laptop keys, and the howl of bitter wind just outside the door. He tore his gaze from the glare of the computer screen and the article he had been so intently reading, and cast his eyes across the motel room at the tiny figure curled up on the ratty old couch, barely noticeable in the harsh shadows cast across it.

Gabriel hadn’t spoken a word since his escape from Purgatory, nearly a week passed. This had been worrisome, given the fact that the Archangel-turned-Trickster-turned-Pagan-God had a mouth on him and the obnoxious sense of humour of a sugar-hyped child with an anthill and a magnifying glass. But this… this creature… this was not the Gabriel that Sam remembered. This was not the flippant and flamboyant Messenger of God with all his snarky remarks and his cunning schemes. This was a broken being, powerless and quiet, eyes once so eerily bright and golden now a dull, lifeless haze. His hair had grown longer, so much that it began to curl around the sides of his neck and against his shoulders, and a light layer of scruff had formed across his sharp jaw line. He’d emerged dirty, ragged, a bloodied mess much like Dean and Cas had been after they emerged, but he now looked a bit better after a hot shower and a change into fresh clothes that belonged to Sam. Gabriel looked downright tiny in them, practically drowning in a sea of plaid and flannel. His hands were hidden by the long sleeves, knees curled up to his chest where the shirt covered the rest of his small body like a blanket.

He was practically unrecognizable, now.

“Pardon?” Sam asked softly.

Gabriel’s eyes were cast to the floor. “The woman you stopped praying to me for. What’s her name?”

Sam felt a wretched sting in his chest. “How…”

“You think I couldn’t hear you where I was?” Gabriel still would not look at him, his tone flat and devoid of the life and laughter it once carried so beautifully. “You prayed to me every night, even though I was dead. Those messages, those thoughts, still managed to reach me while I was in Purgatory because of the connection we shared. They were distant, soft, almost like an echo your ears could just barely catch, but I heard ‘em. Every single one. They… kept me sane, until it suddenly went quiet.”

Sam could only stare, all words trapped somewhere in his throat, alongside his beating heart. There was a long stretch of silence between them, broken only by the whirring of the laptop fan, and the scuffle of movement in the hotel room right next door, where Dean and Castiel were spending the night. Purgatory had not been good to Cas, and Dean had mentioned that keeping a couple of messed up angels trapped in the same room together with their flashbacks and nightmares wasn’t the greatest idea. So, they’d split, each brother snagging a room and their very own angel to watch over.

Then again, Gabriel wasn’t really considered Sam’s angel.

Not anymore.

“Gabe…” Sam found his voice, as shaky as it was. “Listen, I…”

“There could only be one reason why you’d stop praying to me, Sam. Either you died, or you found something else to bring you comfort at night. Something that only came into your life after Dean was sucked into Purgatory.” Finally, those lifeless amber eyes found his, and Sam wasn’t sure what he saw there; anger, exhaustion, betrayal, utter and complete despair and loneliness. “And I would have felt you die. Shattered Grace or not, I would have felt it.”

Fuck.

“You were gone.” Sam said after some time. “You were gone, and no matter what I did, no matter how much I researched or how hard I prayed, I couldn’t bring you back.” He felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, and had to blink them away.

“So you gave up.” Gabriel stated.

“You never answered me,” Sam said defensively, shutting his laptop as softly as his shaking hands would allow. He stood, then, and made for the fridge, Gabriel’s eyes following him as he went. He grabbed a beer. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The Archangel glared, albeit tiredly. “I was dead, Sam. No Grace, no power, no way of communication. The very fact that I could even hear you was based on the tiny fragment of myself I left woven to your soul when we were together for the first time. And excuse me for being too busy running for my fucking life at all hours of the day to attempt to find a solution to all that.”

Sam turned away, draining half of the beer bottle in one shot. It was lukewarm and tasted awful, but he needed something to fill the emptiness he suddenly felt all-too clearly within him. He remembered that night vividly, when he’d invited Gabriel into his life, despite the fact that he still could not trust him, entirely. But the Archangel made him laugh, made him smile in moments that he’d forgotten how to, made him feel whole in a world that could only see the shattered, ugly bits of him that remained.

He’d brought Gabriel into his life, and eventually into his bed, opening himself to him and making himself vulnerable in every way possible, and it had been good. So, so good. Gabriel had been gentle; nothing like the way Sam had expected. The Archangel was careful with him, that time and each and every time after that, as if Sam could crumble in his palms if he was too rough, worshiping him with sweet kisses and caresses, nearly causing the hunter to weep with the sheer understanding and acceptance he felt from this most divine of all creatures.

And he’d fallen in love. Those words had never been uttered or expressed, but he had, and all too soon was his opportunity to say them ripped away when Lucifer had taken Gabriel from him, had taken what he’d once thought would be his last chance at happiness.

“What’s her name?” Gabriel asked for the third time.

Sam clenched his eyes shut. “Amelia.”

There was a pause, and then, “Do you love her?”

“I don’t… know. I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no.”

He turned to face the Archangel. “It’s not a yes, either.”

“So you won’t go back?” Gabriel asked softly. “After the crap with Crowley and Kevin and the Tablet is all over and done with, you won’t go back to the life you shared with her?”

Sam didn’t have an answer for that.

“I thought so.”

“Gabriel…” Sam set his beer down on the table. “What the hell was I supposed to do? You were dead. For two years, you were dead. I went to Hell, I was tormented endlessly by hallucinations of Lucifer, and you weren’t there. I know it’s not your fault, but I had to keep fighting on without you, I had to keep waking up and breathing and living on without you. And I somehow found a way to move on, to be happy again. God knows that if anything had happened to me, instead, I would want you to do the same thing.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing…” Gabriel uncurled himself on the couch, and stood, Sam’s shirt hanging off of him like a dress. He was leaner, now, and no longer carried himself with the same level of pride and arrogance that he used to. Puffed chest and straight shoulders were now replaced with a deflated slouch and exhausted movements, like the very weight of the world had rendered the Archangel weak, and defeated. “I’ll never be able to move on, Sam. That moment we shared, when we bonded ourselves to each other? That can never un-happen, kiddo. You and I are linked eternally, and no matter where you go or who you choose to be with, I will always belong to you.” Amber eyes darted around the room as Gabriel spoke, still alert, fearful of what could emerge from the shadows at any given moment. “You can run off and live that perfect little life with apple pies and white picket fences and dog parks with Amelia, and I will still belong to you. I can be on the other side of the fucking planet, and I will hear every prayer, I will know the second you are in danger, I will be linked to your soul for as long as I exist. What you carry within you, that little part of me, is more Grace than what I currently have glowing inside of this vessel right now. You have more of myself inside you than I do, and you have no idea how much it fucking hurts.”

Sam’s hand came up to rest on his chest, over his own heart, as though he could feel the warmth of Gabriel’s glow woven around his soul. A vicious lump built in his throat. “Shit… Gabriel, I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. I got my ass shanked by Lucifer before I’d gotten the chance to actually tell you.” A slow, bitter smile crossed the Archangel’s features, and Sam could’ve sworn he saw the glimmer of tears in those eyes as Gabriel ran his hands across his growing beard. “Y’know what’s actually hilarious about all this? After your prayers stopped a little over a year ago, the reason I kept going was because I thought that, if I did find a way to pop myself back into the land of the living, I’d actually have something to come home to.” He grinned, and it was twisted and cold and the tears that had built in his eyes were now tumbling down over his cheeks. “Hysterical, huh?”

“Gabe…”

“Now look at me!” Gabriel gestured down to himself. “I’m weak, and I’m useless. My batteries have been drained so much that I’m practically running on fumes, here. I’m hardly an angel anymore, and yet I still can’t call myself human. Every family member I know is dead or batshit crazy or trapped in some fucking pit somewhere with no chance of escape. Everyone I know is gone, and I don’t even have a home to run to. I’m… I’m nothing. I have nothing. Not anymore.”

Sam shook his head and came forward, reaching out to take the Archangel’s smaller hands. “No, Gabe, you have a home. Here with us. Dean and Cas and I will take care of you. We’ll be your family.”

“Fat chance.” Gabriel pulled his hands away and stepped back, which resulted in him swaying off balance. Sam caught him around the waist to keep him steady, but the Archangel simply pushed himself from the hunter’s broad chest. He sniffed, and wiped his face dry with the sleeve of Sam’s shirt. “Cas is having a rough time, and Dean needs to keep a close eye on him. They need to take care of each other in that twisted, fucked-up relationship of theirs. And you…” There was a catch in his voice.

Sam frowned. “I can help you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not just going to hang around with the knowledge that when all this is over and done with, I’m not the one you’ll be coming home to. Call me crazy, but I think that’s just downright cruel, being around someone you can’t touch or hold or be with anymore, and trying to keep a fucking smile on for their sake as it destroys you inside.”

“I’m not going to be sorry for being with Amelia, Gabe.” Sam sighed.

“I’m not asking you to. Fuck, if she makes you happy, have at it. You deserve happiness after all the crap the universe has thrown your way. But don’t expect me to stand by and watch it happen.” Gabriel shrugged out of Sam’s shirt, and tossed it carelessly over the back of the nearest chair. He was wearing nothing but a white wife-beater and a pair of faded jeans underneath. “Best thing for me to do is get my ass as far from you as possible, because I can fucking hear my Grace humming inside of you. It’s calling me, and it’s demanding I get close to it…” He clutched at his own hair and shut his eyes. He was beginning to tremble and shake. “I can’t… I can’t take hearing it anymore, Sam. I can’t do it.”

“Gabriel.” Sam had enough. He practically yanked the Archangel close, pressing the smaller man to his chest while his arms curled and clutched at his ex-lover’s body. Gabriel tried to fight, tried to twist and pull away, but the shaking began to worsen, until his knees gave out and Sam was left holding up Gabriel’s entire weight while the Archangel choked out a wretched sob into his chest. The sound was bitter, broken, heart-wrenching, and Sam had been the cause of it all. He buried his nose in Gabriel’s hair, soaking the strands with his own tears, inhaling the sweet and unearthly scent he didn’t know he’d missed so much.

“Let me go.” Gabriel demanded through his tears.

“No.” Sam held tighter.

Gabriel’s fists beat weakly at Sam’s chest, fingers curling into the hunter’s shirt and tugging until Sam could practically feel the loneliness and desperation. “God damn it, just let me fucking go, Sam.”

“Shut up,” Sam wove his fingers through the soft hair at the back of his ex-lover’s neck. He recalled nights playing with it, nestling his nose into it while he slept, clutching onto it and tugging hard until Gabriel moaned.

“Stop thinking about us,” Gabriel tried to twist free once more. “Stop it. I can hear you.”

Sam winced. “Sorry…”

It took a few long minutes for Gabriel to ease in his arms, for the trembling to finally cease, and the wretched sobs to die away into gentle sniffs. Sam did not move, did not weaken his hold on the Archangel, even when his arms and legs began to protest.

“I don’t blame you, you know. For choosing Amelia over me.” Gabriel said softly.

Sam’s frown deepened as he looked down at him.

Gabriel met his eyes. The tears were still there. “I’m ten pounds of fucked up in a five pound bag, kiddo. Who’d want to be tethered to that, y’know? Especially with all you have to deal with already. Amelia is nice and human and normal, nothing to remind you of this life you despise so much. Can’t really compete with that, huh?”

“Gabe, c’mon, that’s not…”

And then Gabriel’s mouth was suddenly on his; soft and firm, sweeter than he could have possibly remembered. Sam made a weak sound into the kiss, but did not retreat from it. Instead, he pushed closer, taking that succulent mouth for all it was worth, drinking in the flavour of the Archangel, and the feel of rough scruff brushing against his own jaw. Gabriel’s hands were on either side of the hunter’s face, holding him as their tongues swiped together, lazy and meticulous, before suddenly drawing back. Their panted breaths collided between them, and Sam stared wide-eyed, unsure of what had just happened.

And why he suddenly, desperately, wanted more.

“You’re not mine, Sam.” Gabriel whispered. “Not anymore.”

There was a sharp snap, and then Sam’s arms were empty, filled with nothing but a gentle gust of sweet air where a warm, firm body should have been. Gabriel was gone, snapped away to God-knows-where using what was probably his last remaining bit of usable Grace, all to get as far away from Sam and the memories of what they’d once shared.

With his heart lodged in his throat, and the fresh sting of tears in his eyes, Sam was left alone to wonder what could have been, had he just waited.

But there was really no point in dwelling on it.

Not anymore.


End file.
